


Every Star That Ever Was

by backintimeforstuff



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Episode: s05e01 The Eleventh Hour, F/M, Season/Series 05, The Eleventh Hour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:53:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23458897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/backintimeforstuff/pseuds/backintimeforstuff
Summary: In the dead of night, he shows her the universe and tells her to hold on tight.
Relationships: Eleventh Doctor/Amy Pond
Kudos: 7





	Every Star That Ever Was

Sometimes, in the midst of all her starlight, the Doctor forgets.

It doesn’t matter how many brand-new worlds he shows her, how many she sets foot on, or how many she saves – Amy Pond is entirely human. And she will never not be amazed. 

Most of the time he loses track of everything they’ve ever done together; all the civilisations, times and lives they’ve ever stumbled across. Truth be told, to him, it’s just whirlwind - nothing but a beautiful mess of interchanging colours, explosions and running down corridors. In amongst it all, in the never-ending free-fall of the nights of their lives - Amy is his only constant. She is the only thing he will ever remember. And he wants to make sure she knows. 

Of course, actually telling her is a lot harder than he first anticipates. Amy Pond never sits still long enough to listen to anything; especially if it borders on sincerity. She’ll never stay quiet enough in the face of conversation, never believe him if he confesses his hearts in any kind of love letter. For he’s convinced he is in love – not with her, necessarily – but with the starlight that surrounds her; with her majestic impossibility and all her wonder that stops at nothing to take his breath away. 

When he closes his eyes – in the midst of the blur of his memories – everything about her is crystal clear. He can picture perfectly every look she’s ever given him, every move and every touch she’s ever made. All the times she’s ever stepped outside with wide eyes – staring at the stars like she’s never seen a sky before – well, he keeps those the closest to his hearts. Her amazement fuels his desire like nothing he’s ever felt before. Dear God, Amelia. He wonders how he got so lucky. 

On reflection, with this amount of emotion coursing through him, just talking to her isn’t going to be anywhere near enough. Just sitting down and telling her how he feels - well, it’s hardly going to live up to any kind of spectacle. It’s hardly going to live up to hers. What he’s planning needs to knock her off her feet, entirely and completely. It needs to wrap her up around his finger, their arms entwined in free-fall. If the ground doesn’t fall away beneath their feet when the stars align, well, he’s not having it. Forget sitting and talking, he now realised - he’s standing at the helm of an impossible control room, with all of time and space at his disposal. For Amy Pond, nothing but the best is ever going to cut it. He throws a few levers in wistful thinking. It’s time to put on a show.

\--- 

He’s going to give her something. Something that’ll make her understand the sheer gravity of his sentiment, something she’ll remember forever. He doesn’t know what; not quite yet; but when a week passes, when he finally decides, he just smiles. Entirely content, he turns to the console, because deep down he knows. He’s going to give her everything. 

He’s going to give her the entire sky – all of space and all of time – all of anywhere, and all of everywhere. Every single star that ever was is prize enough, he thinks, for her. She’s the girl who makes them shine, after all. She deserves everything he can possibly offer her.

He starts by landing first; grounding the TARDIS to its destination before he even calls her. She’ll be suspicious of that and he knows it - for he usually waits and lets her walk all over him with destination suggestions and half hints. Still, today is not the day to be held down by any of that. The rules are out the window, and he can’t help but being thrilled by it. Today, it’s time to be extraordinary.  
From the console, he turns his attention to the empty corridor. A moment goes by and grins in spite of himself. Best get on with it.  
“Amelia!”

\--- 

He’s pleased to note Amy arrives quickly on command, if not a little haphazardly. She offers him a questioning gaze from the top of the staircase, and even manages to make it down onto the glass floor beside him before he’s even thought about what to say to her. She puts her arm in the crook of his elbow, and he just gazes at her. Frankly, if she does anything else, he might have to remind himself to breathe. Predictably, she rests her chin on his shoulder and looks straight into his eyes.

“What’s happening, mister?” 

After several eternities, the Doctor manages to speak. He looks right back at her, and without any rehearsal at all, says three words. 

“Pick a star.” 

She just looks at him. 

“Pick a star, Amelia. Any star.”

She’s faltering at this point, pulling away from him in disbelief. 

“I don’t-”

“Any of them - in the entire universe.” The Doctor’s decided to be mysterious. “They’re all yours.”

“All mine?”

She’s past being confused now.

“All yours.”

Without warning, he walks past her, down the steps and across the foyer without saying another word. He pulls open the door and waits, and as she catches up with him, she sees nothing but an empty field beyond, lying lifeless in the dead of night. 

“Follow me.” The Doctor says. 

Amy doesn’t think twice. 

\--- 

For the most part, they keep walking and walking, the Doctor showing no signs of stopping. The light of the TARDIS disappears into the distance, and eventually, after what feels like hours, he stops. The wind is stinging her eyelids, and as much as she’d like to be inspired by the mushy grass beneath her feet, it’s not particularly enlightening. She’s got no idea why they’re even out here.

“Doctor, what are we-”

“Close your eyes.”

She just stares at him. 

“Humour me, Amy, please.”

Eventually she gives in. She feels him step up to her, whispering in the face of the wind. 

“In all those years you waited, tell me, did you ever dream?” He’s rehearsed this bit – at least. He’s grinning through the darkness, and she can’t even see. God, this is going to be good.  
“All those constellations inside your head, galaxies tumbling, roaring, burning bright, every single corner of time and space, tonight-”

He hears her breath catch. 

“Tonight, I am giving you the stars.” 

When Amy opens her eyes again, the sky is full with billions of them – the sky is shining, miles and miles of it – like it will never ever stop. She stands there, mouth agape, looking up. 

\--- 

“How about that one?”

They’ve opted for the best view, lying out on the grass under the canopy of starlight. The wind isn’t even that bad, Amy thinks, as she points her finger through it.

“Bit green, up close.” The Doctor’s right beside her – offering his usual enigmatic commentary. He suspects Amy has no idea how he’s pulled this off – filling the sky like this - but he’s not exactly going to give her the details. It gives him more mystery, that way. He rests his hands over his chest as Amy thinks again. He can tell she’s narrowing her eyes just by the way she talks – drinking in the view. 

“That one’s flickering.”

“Yeah.” The Doctor concedes. The star in question is indeed pulsing – rather dangerously. He grimaces. “Sorry. Thought I fixed that.”

Amy looks over at him through the dusk. “Who are you?”

He laughs. Finally, she asks. 

“I’m the Doctor.”

He wonders whether those three words will be enough for her. If she’s really curious, if she asks - he doesn’t even know if he’ll be able to stop himself. Maybe tonight is the night he gives in and reveals everything. After all, he’s still wishing everything on her, for her – but he’s still counting down under his breath, for the millisecond he’s been waiting for. They’ve very nearly been out here long enough. 

“Doctor Who?” 

As the question slips out of Amy’s mouth – it happens.

The grass beneath their fingertips begins to shimmer and - just like he hoped it would - they’re flying; tumbling in free-fall through a haze of indescribable colours. Everything’s happening so fast he suspects she won’t have any idea what’s going on. It might feel like falling; but time itself is opening - for her, and her alone. It’s showing her wonder and chaos in equilibrium, and he realises, as he grapples with her, staring straight into her eyes, that salvation and damnation are pretty much the same thing. 

Giving her everything, he supposes, is exactly this. It’s free-falling starlight, holding hands, and well, just being amazed. Her heartbeat, at least, is telling him that. It’s making his own hearts beat faster than he’s ever felt them, and even gazing upon time itself, Amy Pond seems to shine brighter than it all. Shrouded in the starlight of the universe, he ends up telling her the only thing he can think of. He tells her to hold on tight. He hopes she never, ever, lets go.

Without warning, everything goes back to where it was. The dewy field is once again beneath their fingertips, Amy’s stars shining like a canopy above them.  
The Doctor smiles.

“All of time and space. Everywhere and anywhere. Every star that ever was.”

He looks over at her. 

“Where do you want to start?”


End file.
